Your Il Mostro
by Mischel
Summary: This is a rewritten last scene in 3x02 with Will and Hannibal in the catacombs. I just wanted them to finally meet, so if you're interested and weren't satisfied with the ending just like me, please R&R :) - Oneshot, Hannigram, possible spoilers for 3x02


**Okay, so this is my first Hannibal fanfic, please have mercy :D I've never even read any fanfic for this fandom, I just wanted them to meet in the last scene and so I wrote this. I hope they're not OOC, please enjoy :)**

 **Warning: I'm not native speaker and only 16 years old + my first attempt to write Hannibal and Will.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Hannibal.**

 **YOUR _IL MOSTRO_**

* * *

"I... forgive you." Those words left his lips as if he was always meant to say them. In some point in time, here and now, he was. He stopped and listened carefully. Yes, he could hear Hannibal's silent footsteps – fading. "Hannibal!" Will called again.

The footsteps stopped.

Will listened again and after a few seconds of complete silence, he started walking. To the left, right, left again and then he finally stopped. There he was. A silhouette of a tall man in the dark corner of the catacombs. Will didn't see his face, but he didn't have to. He knew it was him. He knew it was his _il Mostro_.

He stepped closer to him. Hannibal didn't move away from the shadows, he was just looking at Will. Waiting.

"You sent me your heart." Will said, coming closer. He still wasn't sure what would he do once he saw Hannibal's face. The face of the man who killed his Abigail. Was she dead? She flew with him here – she was in the plane, sitting right next to him. But now she was gone. She was never there... or was she? Will wasn't sure.

"Yes," was the answer. Hannibal finally stepped into the light of the torches on the walls. The light of the fire enlightened his face, his eyes, jawline, hair... The face of Hannibal Lecter was in front of Will. His psychiatrist. Or a friend. Was he his friend? No... yes... maybe.

"Hannibal," Will said again. And maybe he smiled, he didn't know.

"Will," Hannibal nodded and stepped just a tiny bit closer.

Eight months. It's been eight months since he saw this man, almost nine. And he couldn't deny that he'd missed him. Will was the only person he had let inside. Inside the real Hannibal, he had let Will see him, see who he was. But then when Hannibal wanted to surprise him, Will wanted to surprise Hannibal.

They could have left together. They could have made that heart _together._

Will stepped closer again, still looking into Hannibal's eyes. "Why did you send me that heart, Hannibal?" He asked when he was just a few feet away.

"Why do _you_ think I made that heart?" Hannibal replied. "Whose side are you on Will? We let our minds create things that we can believe in rather than the truth. What do you believe in, Will? What do you remember?" He asked.

"I... I remember you." Will said, taking another step closer, almost closing the distance between them completely. "You were holding my head and then you stabbed me and killed Abigail." Will hesitated. "I remember you saying that you made a place for us."

Hannibal didn't move nor said anything, but Will saw in his eyes that he was pleased. Hannibal's arms were behind his back and then, just for a fraction of second, he looked behind Will.

Will immediately knew what that meant. He quickly turned around and aimed his gun at the intruder. It was the _Commendatore_. He was aiming his gun at Will, too. "I told you to leave before you count yourself among the dead." Will said.

The _Commendatore_ looked at Hannibal behind him and then back at Will. "And I told you I can't let him go any more than you can." He replied, aiming his gun at Hannibal.

"And if I remember right," Will said, stepping right in front of him. "I informed you that Hannibal's going to kill you. I keep my promises." Will smiled.

The _Commendatore_ smirked. "But you wouldn't let that happen, would you Signor Graham?" He said, but in his voice was doubt. He looked behind Will again and...

Hannibal _wasn't_ there.

This time it was Will who smirked. "I still haven't told you whose side I'm on." His smile widened and his eyes looked behind the _Commendatore._ Suddenly two hands grabbed his head and he dropped the gun, trying to break free. Will went closer to him and looked into his bloodshot eyes. "I'm on the side of Hannibal Lecter." He whispered.

Hannibal grabbed the _Commendatore_ tighter and snapped his neck. His lifeless body fell to the cold ground, next to his gun, and it stayed there – dead. And possible dinner for tonight.

Will looked up at Hannibal who smiled at him. This time it was Hannibal who closed the distance between them. He touched Will's face, just like he did eight months ago in his house. He buried his fingers in Will's dark curly hair and stepped even closer, so close that Will could feel his breath on his face. Hannibal studied his face and then he smiled again.

"I'm glad to see you here, Will." He said.

"Likewise." Will smiled. Hannibal then looked at the corpse, lying on the ground again. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. Then he looked at Will again. "Do you wish to participate or observe?" He smirked.

Will took his hand and squeezed. He looked down at the dead body again and then back at Hannibal. His _il Mostro._

"Participate."

* _la fine_ *


End file.
